Dagon
by Perfect Carnage
Summary: (One-shot exercise) The remnants of a forgotten cult spark events that threaten the peace of Skyrim, and may plunge all of Tamriel into darkness.


Drafts

A robed figure rushed down the deserted streets of Dawnstar, icy wind ruffling the folds of his cloak and causing it to be drawn tighter. The person's destination was a large ruin sunk into the Cliffside, long abandoned and forgotten by the people. Two frost trolls patrolled the area and deterred any travellers from investigating the ruin, or plunderers searching for forgotten treasure. The beasts acknowledged his presence by grunting in his direction before ambling of in search of prey. When the cult had first moved to this location they had made sure to educate the beasts in who to treat as friend and foe. It had been accomplished through long sessions of flame and lighting spells, allowing the creatures' natural healing abilities to repair the damage. It had taken up a lot of valuable time that could have been better spent extending their roots into this frozen land, but it had paid off. The trolls now knew to let anyone wearing the robes of the Mythic Dawn pass.

He pushed the doors open and slipped in quickly, wanting to be out of the chill as soon as he could. Pushing the hood off of his face, he moved briskly down the stairs to the main ritual chamber. As he flitted down the stairs his eyes caught glimpses of what had befallen the previous occupants. To the left, the burnt remains of a massive library, misshapen corpses lying scattered on the floor. To the right, orcs and men alike lying dead atop each other, victims of the conflict that had torn this place apart. He wondered why no one had gotten rid of the bodies, but the answer came almost too quickly. There were many uses for the dead in the realm of the arcane….

He entered the room at a fast pace and quickly joined the ceremony. The hall was sp packed that his arrival went unnoticed by most. This was a good thing, as he hadn't been looking forward to explaining himself to their leader. He knelt down next to one of the other cultists and joined in the chanting, not missing a beat as the unholy incantations proceeded. The words were rough and guttural, yet strangely rhythmic as well. When the voices in the hall reached crescendo a dull purple light became visible in the centre of the room, inside the cage that had been built on top of the pentagram. The light began violently splitting, violet sparks shooting off as the rip in the air expanded. Inside the purple perimeter was a black void that seemed to swallow all light, and unconsciously the cultists all felt intense dread and fear as they gazed upon it. The purple edges slowly peeled back in on themselves and a dark form wriggled and writhed its way out, letting off a few dull roars as it struggled to enter the world. As the void shut the creature fell to the floor and eyed the congregation as they did the same.

It was a reptilian creature with rigid obsidian scales all along its body with rows of spikes running across the length of its back. It stood on all forms, though it seemed closer in appearance to a lion than a crocodile. Its mouth was like that of a crocodile and filled with rows of glistening daggers. Each foot ended in long claws that had a strange crimson edge to them and it was impossible for such a thing to be a mere trick of the light. The reptilian creature hissed and began pacing along the edge of its cage, slitted eyes viewing the cultists with contempt.

Members of the order started talking excitedly amongst themselves, each one amazed at their success in summoning such a fine demon. Most of them had been ordinary men and woman, who had joined the revived cult merely because it had seemed a novel thing to do. Over time they had been made to see things in the light that their leader had wanted, and now that one of their goals had been completed, they could see for certain that they had not been lead on. A man dressed in purple robes embroidered with golden lines strode up to the podium. The room went silent in anticipation of what their illustrious superior would have to say about this success. He smiled and took the stage, basking in the admiration in his followers' eyes. It was times like these that made all of the hard work worth it, as he could now see that his labours hadn't been for naught. He spread his arms wide as he addressed his people

"Brothers and Sisters of the Mythic Dawn, before us stands the proof that our efforts are not in vain, that our purpose in fulfilling Lord Dagon's will was not a misguided one. I know that many of you wondered when was the opportunity to act to come. When was the tool of our righteous destruction to come? This, pathetic beast you see before you is the first of many. Soon we will have enough energy to bring great Mehrunes Dagon into this world and take our place at his side! Now go my brothers, go my sisters, go into the world and wait, and know that a reward beyond measure awaits you!" he proclaimed, pausing for a moment. "And remember to stay indoors after dark; Dawnstar's streets won't be safe for a long time to come." He said with a sinister grin on his face. The mass of humanity began shuffling out of the hall, excited conversation sparking up as they expressed their wonder at what they ahd witness here. Many were not native to Dawnstar and were planning on returning to their respective cities by tomorrow. If what their leader had said was true, then they had every reason to hasten their exit from the small coastal city.

The night-watchman, Sam Gilbert was walking alone in the streets, keeping a keen lookout for any troublemakers or criminals who would dare to cross his path, when he saw something glittering alluringly in an alley. Overcome with curiosity Sam went to investigate.

The alley was small, narrow and filled with piles of rotting garbage; there was no way anything of value would be found in here, he realised. Just as he was about to resume his rounds he saw something twinkling from a pile of dirt. He moved forwards to investigate and saw that it was nothing more than a piece of foil.

Raising himself to his feet he was startled by the sight of rows upon rows of ivory white teeth. Sam tried to scream but the jaws were already around his throat.

The next day passers-by were sickened by a foul stench coming from the alley, when someone was sent to investigate the source of the smell, they came upon the savaged corpse of the night-watchman, gutted like a fish.


End file.
